


attempts

by perhapssoon



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, Gen, i might delete later, no compromises au, this is just a test oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 05:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapssoon/pseuds/perhapssoon
Summary: Skull gets sanitized. His team tries to fix that.Or:trial oneshot for in-progress AU





	attempts

**Author's Note:**

> i have no time to write out an entire fic for this yet so here's a oneshot for this au i'm working on where th s4 and rider all get hijacked and their teams have to save them,,, this is basically skull's battle, as told from his own pov :]

The stage is bare, clean white, perfectly polished like it's never been used before, but Skull knows better by the faint streaks of ink on the surface.

That telephone, Tartar, or whatever the shell kind of Commander title he wanted to be called, had properly hijacked his brain, and while Skull wouldn't be okay with that either way, it made it even worse that he could still see and hear everything, but his body was moving all on its own.

_[Those scraps of seafood will be on their way soon,]_  Tartar speaks in his ear, the horribly gargled tones boring its way into the Inkling's brain.  _[All you need to do is wait.]_

_Let me go,_  Skull responds, trying to loosen his grip on his charger, to move his arm upwards, to move his head to the side,  _anything_  to show he was still in control of his own limbs. He would scream or cry if that damned telephone would even let him. But he can't. The tears won't come. His mouth won't open. He can just wait, eyes staring unblinkingly at the edge of the platform, the glow from the disgusting clump of goo stuck to the side of his head reflecting in the whiteness. 

_[You are needed. Final transition imminent. Others are coming.]_

He stands there for so long, he hopes that whoever Tartar said was looking for him would give up. He would never forgive himself if any of the S4 or Rider show up only to be shot down before they can even mount the stage.

But Tartar suddenly mutters something, Skull automatically moving against his will, charger raised, targets trained on the edge, thoughts mixed from Tartar and his own mind turning into a tornado of screams.  _No, no no, they're here, they can't be coming, kill them all, they can't be coming, make them give up, exterminate them, they're going to DIE here, they can't they can't they can't--_

He expects Aloha to jump the side first, the pink Inkling always known for his lack of impulse control and insanely quick reflexes, but the ink splatter that shoots up from the side is  _purple_.

_[Fire.]_

Skull's hand twitches on its own and he fires, the stream of turquoise ink crossing over with the purple, even though no target has appeared in sight. There's no shout from below, showing that someone got hit, and he allows his heart to steady itself somehow, before Paisley scales the side of the platform and appears in plain view, tentacles tied in a messy knot on her head, eyes narrowed. She hurls a burst bomb at the ground and starts to cover the area, not seeing Skull as Tartar forces him to charge another shot.

_No, Paisley can't be here, she'll die here, you need to kill her, those measly scraps of seafood--_

The laser flicks upwards, the red beam of light latching onto Paisley's head and the shot comes before she looks up, Stitch suddenly vaulting over the side and tackling the other, bringing them both down in the line of already coated enemy ink. Skull stares, horrified, trapped in his own body as Tartar charges another shot, aiming for the girls now fumbling on the ground.

_If they both are here then--_

_[The third comes.]_

_No--_

_[Exterminate them. They are useless.]_

For whatever reason, Tartar forces Tenta Missiles onto Skull's back and through the targeting, he can see that there's indeed a third Inkling below the stage, in the middle of climbing up. The Inkling nears the top of the platform, crawling over the edge right as Skull releases the missiles, the spots of turquoise coming down harder and faster than usual turfing speeds, the new Inkling barely managing to roll out of the way.

The shades are recognizable even if the face is devoid of the usual confident smirk.

_Avi?_

Oh cod, his friend couldn't be here, not here, not now. Why would he be so  _stupid_  to go after Skull, all of them? All of them so desperately loyal to their leader, it is their flaw, a fatal one now, and Skull can't do anything to stop it.

His second-in-command sees him then, eyebrows raising above the rim of his glasses, mouth opening in surprise.

"Skull?"

The words come through muffled, like through a wall of glass, and Skull yearns to be able to suddenly break from Tartar's control, to shout for help, to call off the attack, to even laugh and joke that it wasn't real, that he's himself again, that he won't attack, won't attack won't--

_[Stingray.]_

The recoil from the weapon pushes him backwards, almost to the edge of the platform, the jet of ink piercing through the white platform beneath him, clashing with the sterile aura of the room. His teammates just barely manage to dodge, eyes all on their leader now, expressions of mounting horror. Their weapons aren't raised, posture more defensive, but their eyes aren't showing any need to fight back. Skull feels a wave of anxiety rush through him. They  _have_  to fight him, they  _have_  to defeat him. If they don't--- If he kills them all---

_[The left.]_

Skull's arm jerks sideways on its own accord and nearly catches Stitch in the face with the Stingray. She ducks barely in time, turquoise ink splattering across her cheek, hat coming off. 

_[Tenta Missiles. Again.]_

The sounds of the missiles releasing is almost too much to bear and he wishes he could close his eyes so he doesn't have to see his team take damage, turquoise ink splattering across the stage like blood.

_[Bubbler.]_

The bubbles come out before he can blink and he watches the Inkling below him desperately shoot at the bubbles, painting the ground beneath them, but Tartar's absolute control doubles the special so it's almost impossible to get by. The bubbles pop and when the area clear, Stitch is so close to being splatted, Paisley has to shoot her with her own ink to help revive her, Aviator balancing dangerously on the edge of the stage.

The three of them huddle for a second while Tartar charges a third shot, aiming for them. The purple Inklings break away at the last minute and Skull knows from the looks on their faces that they have a plan. He can barely hear their voices as they shout to each other, dodging barrages of bombs and specials. Tartar, as if recognizing he might lose, unleashes three waves of specials: Bubbler, and two Stingrays, before super jumping Skull himself down onto the stage.

His teammates fan out, weapons ready, and Skull laughs to himself. He's a sniper, not a shooter, and it would be at great disadvantage.

_You're at a loss here. They can evade my shots at close range._

_[Inkjet]_

He feels the pack form on his back, raising him above the ground. He aims at Paisley who dives between the backwash of it and appears on the other side, striking him in the back. Purple ink coats the jet and makes it stall; he drops several feet down before Tartar makes him recover right as Stitch catches him on the side of the face. He winces, not that his teammates would see it, but he can feel Tartar's hold relinquishing with the more damage he takes.

_[Super jump back]_  Tartar's voice is quieter now, but still there and Skull feels the tug of a super jump, a force tugging briefly on his leg as he flies upwards, back to his position overseeing the platform.

He lands, hard, and as an act of desperation, Tartar uses the last tendril of control to bring Skull's hand up, quickly adding on ink armor, but it explodes in a shower of purple.

The ink clears, and Skull finds himself on the edge of his platform, legs stuck in purple ink. Tartar, surprisingly, is silent. Avi is standing in front of him, gun raised, sunglasses gone so Skull can see his face.  
He almost wishes he couldn't.  
The look on his friend's face is almost too much to bear. There are no tears, but the expression of grief and horror is worse than that. Both of them are panting hard, and neither moves a muscle, Skull due to Tartar's control, and Aviator for reasons Skull didn't understand.

Skull opens his mouth, forgetting that the telephone controlled his movements, but finds he can speak, despite it all. Maybe Tartar is cruel enough to let him have the last word. Why won't Aviator shoot him already? Doesn't he know that Tartar could come back in control and splat him due to how close he was? Aviator wouldn't be able to stand a point blank shot from any weapon, Eliter or otherwise, and if the ink damage didn't work, the fall would.

"...A-Avi--" His voice is cracked, hoarse, and he wishes that he could stop all of this, as Aviator's eyes widen at his words, nozzle of his gun lowering a fraction. "...End it--"

Aviator is shaking, the gun lowering even more as he stares at Skull, eye contact too important to look away.

"..A-Avi p-please.." He tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry. "H-he'll come back... he's already--"

Tartar's voice comes back slightly, but it's more static than anything and Skull winces, doubling over best he can thanks to the ink slowing his movements. It hurts, why can't Aviator see that? If he was killed right here, right now, all of this would be over--- he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of almost killing his teammates--

Aviator is faltering, his breathing coming more and more uneven, the gun almost completely lowered now. His eyes look like they did when they were kids: open, vulnerable, scared. Skull wants to hug him, comfort him, but his body is frozen, the goop burning into the side of his head. It's getting harder to speak, like his mouth is being glued shut. "K--kill-.. m-me.."

Aviator bites his lip, before backing off completely, gun falling from his hand into the abyss below them. "I-I can't."

" _Avi_ ," Skull is getting desperate. Tartar is coming back. The volume of the telephone's scratchy voice is increasing in his head and it's harder to move on his own now. " _Please._ "

Aviator is shaking his head, tears finally coming. "Cod, I can't do this. Fuck." He clenches both hands into fists before opening them again, releasing a breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them, the vulnerability is gone. In it's place is the usual cocky gleam, shaky at best, but it's still there. "Go ahead and kill me. The telephone, whatever the fuck your name is. Do your worst. I'm not fighting Skull."

Tartar's voice pierces through Skull's head, suddenly loud and clear.

_[The seafood wants to be sacrificed. Heroic. Foolish. It issues a challenge. I will accept.]_

Skull's hand shoots out on its own will, the same glowing goo on the side of his face now crawling up his wrist. He grabs Aviator by the shoulder with one hand, using the other to force the goo onto the second-in-command's face. Aviator screams, the noise stabbing through Skull like a knife, but he can't move his hand away. Tartar is in full control now.

They sink forward, Aviator thrashing furiously, Skull ripping free of the purple ink initially binding him to the stage, Aviator's scream becoming drawn out and thin, until it stops completely. His movements slow and stop too until he lies prone on the platform under Skull. Tartar forces Skull to his feet, letting him see the damage done to his friend. On the right side of Aviator's face is the glowing turquoise ink, now-turquoise eyes staring straight ahead, unseeing. 

_[Rise, new pawn.]_

Eerily, Aviator stands, body bending unnaturally like there's a string attached to his chest, pulling him upwards. He stand before Skull, his lips splitting into a very un-Aviator-like grin, his tentacles slowly turning bright turquoise.

_"Hello Skull."_


End file.
